Wayward Animus
by Slytherpire
Summary: EzioLeo ShaunDes...Desmond comes across one of Ezio's more erotic memories, Shaun has a startling reaction to Italian. PWP


Hi! So...this is my second lemon (first for Assassin's Creed)! I hope you like it! And I hope you suddenly get the urge to write your own, then PM me about it so that I can giggle excitedly and reread it over and over again...

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed, nor anything associated with it. I wish I did. Actually, I wish I was part of the team who created it! Damn...I wonder if I'm too young for them to hire me? Maybe I can convince them to make Shaun rape Desmond in Assassin's Creed 3...

Note: For the purpose of this story, Shaun will be able to see the monitor from his desk, which will be relatively close to the Animus. :)

* * *

"You look good tonight, Ezio."

Ezio raised his eyebrow in surprise at the statement. Leonardo gave him a once over, flushed, then turned away. He looked back for a moment with one eye, as though he was _peeking_, and Ezio looked down to see where his gaze had settled.

"What?" he asked in confusion, thrusting his hips forward so that he could better see his trousers, "Is there something on my pants?"

He looked up just in time to catch the bright red blush on Leonardo's face as he turned.

And quite suddenly, everything _clicked._

Smirking, the assassin slowly sauntered his way up behind his friend. He leaned in very close, almost touching, but not quite. The artist didn't even notice him.

"No, nothing, _amico mio_," Leonardo responded, and Ezio was pleased to notice that his voice shook slightly, "I thought I saw, but it was merely a trick of the light."

With a sinister grin, the assassin placed his lips right next to his friend's ear.

"Nothing?" he murmured huskily.

Leonardo jumped nearly six feet high. He whipped around to face Ezio, heart pounding and sporting a rather fantastic hard-on. Thank goodness his robes covered it.

"Are you sure?" Ezio asked, placing his hands on either side of the painter, effectively trapping him, "Perhaps you should take a closer look."

Leonardo's mouth went dry. Surely he didn't mean…? This was Ezio, the womanizer, the heartbreaker of _Venezia. _There was absolutely no way that he meant what he said the way that Leonardo had heard it.

He looked at the man's lips nervously, noting that they were coming closer and closer to his face. He tilted his head back and leaned on the table behind him. He felt as though his legs had turned to goo.

"E-ezio?" he asked, embarrassed to hear that he could not keep his voice steady, "W-what are you doing?"

"Kissing you." The assassin said, and he leaned in to press his lips firmly to against his.

It was nothing like Leonardo thought it would be. He did not float off into bliss. He did not faint with pleasure. His heart did not skip, spin, or flutter. It stopped. The world went black with surprise and he took a deep, gasping breath as he pulled away.

"Ezio!" he cried, mouth hanging open in surprise.

He didn't know what else to say. What _could_ he say? What could he _do_? All of his wits seemed to have left him, as he stared foolishly at the assassin.

The other man looked confused. He pulled back as well, looking befuddled beyond the sense.

"I-I…I'm sorry?" he stuttered, searching Leonardo's eyes for some kind of reaction, "I-I had gotten the impression that…I didn't know…"

He stopped himself after a moment, and looked down, as though he was actually unsure now as to whether Leonardo had been staring at his cock or if he actually had a stain on his pants.

Luckily, Leonardo got his senses back as the Italian pulled his hands back from the table. He grabbed the assassin behind the head and crushed their mouths together, biting slightly on the other man's bottom lip.

Ezio let out an obscenely loud moan.

_Oh god…_

The assassin pressed himself up against Leonardo and plunged his tongue into his mouth. He trailed it along the edge of his gums, licking up the bottom of his tongue before curling it around the tip and _sucking_. Leonardo let out a moan and thrust against him.

_Fuck, he was _hard_._

Without waiting another moment, Ezio turned and threw Leonardo onto the floor, before following and landing on top of him. He attacked his mouth again, groaning and grinding into him, before he pulled back and attacked his neck.

"_Ezio_." Leonardo moaned, throwing his head back to smack loudly against the floor.

"Leo." Ezio ground out, his teeth set in frustration as he ripped the man's shirt open, "_Amore mio_." He amended, "You have no idea how long I have wanted this." He tore the fabric off of his shoulders, throwing it haphazardly into the corner of the room, "How many _women_ I have gone through to keep from jumping you from the time I met you."

The painter groaned in response, writhing beneath him as his nipples were attacked.

Ezio bit lightly on the pink nub, his right hand pinching the other one as his left wandered lower.

"_Amore mio_." He said, sneaking his hand beneath layers of fabric and _squeezing_, "I am going to fuck you so hard."

"Yes!" Leonardo gasped, "_Please! _Oh, Ezio!"

Ezio's right hand made its way down to a clasp as his mouth followed, licking and biting. He wrenched the pants open, fumbling slightly in his anticipation, and didn't even wait for the zipper to be fully undone before he pulled everything off and threw it in some vague direction.

There was no teasing and no talk. He took Leonardo into his mouth in one fell swoop and _sucked_.

"EZIO!" Leonardo screamed, bucking violently, "YES! Oh!"

Ezio hallowed his cheeks and sucked, bringing a hand up to fondle Leonardo's balls. His head bobbed up and down and he looked up to see his friend watching him with dark, hungry eyes.

Gods, he needed him soon, or he was going to come in his pants.

He swallowed once more and reached his hands to his own trousers, taking them off quickly and deciding not to bother with his shirt.

Leonardo whimpered as he pulled back, having been effectively turned into a pile of jelly.

"Oh, Ezio," he moaned, throwing his head back in forth in apparent agonizing pleasure, "Ezio, Ezio, Ezio…"

The assassin wasted no time, slicking three fingers with saliva and pushing one into Leonardo's entrance. He returned his mouth to his friend's cock, moaning around the length as he pumped himself with his free hand.

"_Yes_," the painter gasped.

He inserted another finger, stretching carefully and deliberately, removing his mouth as he felt Leonardo near the brink. He imagined it must be uncomfortable, but the artist seemed to be unaware of anything but the pleasure. Curious, he inserted another finger and _twisted_ up.

"Oh!" Leonardo cried, grinding himself down onto Ezio's hand, "Please, now! Fuck me, fuck me, _fuck me_!"

Damn, he had a dirty mouth for such a kind soul.

Close to losing control himself, the assassin brought himself up to Leonardo's entrance. He slowly pushed in, slick with pre-cum, and gave the man a moment when he was fully sheathed.

He clenched his fists tightly, trying his hardest to hold back.

But Leonardo was having none of that. His big blue eyes glared up at the assassin as he hooked his legs around his waist, pulled back, and _slammed_ himself back onto Ezio.

"_Oh_," Ezio groaned as the room brightened.

"Fuck me," Leonardo seethed, writhing beneath him once more, "_Harder, faster_…"

He had no choice but to comply.

So, he pulled back and slammed into him again, moaning as Leonardo cried, "Ezio, ezio, ezio…" while holding onto the legs of the table.

Leonardo was so tight, so hot, it was so _good_ – everything he'd wanted and-

* * *

Shaun had stopped watching the monitor around the time that Ezio had ground Leonardo into the floor.

He'd been staring agape at the machine, his thoughts a mixture of confusion and pleasure when suddenly it had occurred to him that Desmond was actually _experiencing_ this. What the hell was it doing to him? Hell, he was probably straight. The damn wanker was going to have a sodding identity crisis when he came out.

The man sighed and looked desperately at the door.

The power had gone out about five hours ago, and Lucy and Rebecca had taken the opportunity to drive the two hours into the city and get some _necessities_, as they put it. Of course, the power had come back on not a half hour later, and Desmond had insisted that he go back into the Animus.

"We can't waste any time," he'd said, as though he was some sort of hero.

"I don't bloody well care," Shaun had responded, not even glancing up from his work, "Do whatever the bloody hell you want, just don't fucking _bother_ me."

Of course, Desmond had no idea, really, how to work the other end of the Animus. He didn't know how to pick and choose memories, or skip the filler ones. He'd spent four hours through guard-harassing and a boring dinner with some duke before he'd come upon _this_.

Apparently, he'd gotten caught up in the memory. That, or he'd been enjoying himself too much and had decided to see it through to the end.

Oh, he'd spoken too soon. The Animus made the strange, spaceship-like noise that signaled that Desmond was coming to.

Shaun smirked slightly, leaning back to ready himself for the show. He just knew the boy would freak out. He was such a fucking _pansy_.

"Agh!"

Sure enough, Desmond shot up as soon as his consciousness returned. He looked around the room with glazed, unfocused eyes before settling on Shaun. It was clear to the computer geek that Desmond was having trouble speaking, but he didn't know if it was because he was shocked or turned on.

The tent in his pants favored the latter.

"How you feeling, Desmond?" he taunted haughtily, looking down his nose at the flustered man in the hoody, "A bit turned on, perhaps? Tell me, how'd it feel to fuck a painter that's been dead for hundreds of years? Judging by the salute your pants are giving me, I'd say you quite enjoyed it."

Desmond gave him a pained look and seemed to totally ignore his sarcasm. He leaned forward on the Animus slightly, pressing himself into the chair, and clenched his fists in apparent agony.

He bit his lip and positively _growled _at Shaun.

"_Scopata! Non lo penso latta…_Shaun_, io non posso prendere questo, io sono cosi corneo…scopata_!"

Shaun gaped.

He took a moment to try and collect himself, but the only thing he seemed able to process was that his hands had gone numb and all the blood had rushed _south_.

Well, fuck.

"Shaun, _sono_-" Desmond ground his teeth angrily, pushed himself harder against the chair, and cringed, "I am so_ fucked_. I can't even think straight, ugh…"

He opened his eyes briefly, and his gaze rested, for some unknown reason, on Shaun's crotch. Shaun tried in vain to hide it, crossing his legs casually as he turned away.

Desmond's eyes darkened even further, and he leapt across the room in two strides.

Much like the Ezio-Leo simulation, the assassin had him pinned right up against his desk. But, unlike Leonardo, Shaun was having none of this.

"Desmond, I am not going to allow you to-"

The assassin leaned down and bit his neck. _Hard._

"Ow!" Shaun rubbed, his face going bright red, "If you think I-"

Desmond grabbed his jaw and leaned in close, smirking as he sounded out each syllable deliberately.

"_Sto andando a vaffunculo in questo scrittorio_."

He captured Shaun's mouth fiercely.

_Oh, yesss._

An embarrassingly loud moan escaped the computer geek, and he took the moment it gave him to turn the tables and have Desmond pressed up to the table. He ground himself into the man.

"How would you like it if I just fucked you right now?"

He thought Desmond would blanche and back off at that, but all that the assassin did was press himself up against Shaun and let out an almost pornographic sound. The Brit clenched his teeth and tried to hold back the feral growl he felt rising in response.

"Fuck!" Desmond cried.

And he pounced him.

Unfortunately, this caused Shaun to land with his back on the Animus, trapped beneath the horny man. He tried valiantly to extricate himself, and somehow managed to flip them over. It probably had something to do with the fact that Desmond had been concentrating on removing their pants. Both of them had ended up naked from the waste down. Damn assassin.

Shaun jumped as a slick finger entered him.

"Desmond!" he cried in surprise, pulling away, "Don't even fucking _think_ for a bloody moment that-"

The assassin reached up and inserted two fingers into him, almost painfully.

Shaun snarled and bent down to kiss him. He delved his tongue into the wet cavern of his mouth violently, pressing him into the Animus.

They fought for a bit, Desmond trying to throw Shaun off, and Shaun biting, kissing and grinding his body against the machine. Neither of them spared any mercy for the other, and both were painfully hard. Their thighs were slicked wet with pre-cum, the bottom of their shirts stained dark with the wetness.

"Ah!" Desmond cried as Shaun bit down on his nipple, "Shaun!"

The computer geek swept his arm down and grabbed his leather belt from his pants. It cracked as it was whipped out from the loops and he wasted no time latching it around the assassin's hands. With a rough push and a thrust of his hips, he forced Desmond's arms against the headrest and pulled the belt tight around everything, binding the assassin to his machine.

"Fuck," Desmond cursed, and he almost sounded scared, but his body betrayed him. He was hard to the point that it looked unbearably painful. He whimpered quietly.

Shaun pulled away and leaned back to survey his work. There was a huge smile on his face, and a dark look in his eyes.

"Oh dear, it seems the little assassin is all tied up," Shaun taunted, "There's only so much you can learn from your ancestors, isn't there?"

But Desmond didn't even seem to care that he was being mocked. He bucked violently, trying to get closer to the Brit, trying to get more friction.

"Just do it." He finally ground out, brows furrowed as he glared angrily. He tried to pull against the belt, to no avail.

"What was that?" Shaun cupped a hand to his ear, "Was that a demand? I'm sorry, but I don't think you're in any position to be making orders, Desmond. In fact, I think you'll have to beg."

The assassin froze. Beg? Like hell. He'd sit there until Lucy got back before he'd beg. He'd get off rubbing up against the Animus before he begged _Shaun._

"Like hell." Desmond growled.

Shaun was having none of that.

He leaned forward carefully, so that his face was hovering just above Desmond's cock. He smirked slightly, stuck his tongue out like he was going to lick it, and then_ breathed_ on the head.

"Please," Desmond gasped out, arching up. He realized what he'd just done, and his face went red as he bit his lip.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Shaun grinned, "What did you want me to do?" He used his tongue to draw a careful line up the underside of Desmond's cock.

"Please!" the assassin cried, "Shaun, please fuck me, I want you so bad, _le necesito tan malo_!"

That was all the Brit needed. He lined himself up with Desmond's entrance, not even bothering to prepare him, and thrust inside harshly.

"OH!" Desmond cried, a mixture of intense pain and overwhelming ecstasy, "Yes, please! More! Fuck, Shaun! Harder!"

Shaun pulled out nearly all the way, then rolled his hips violently as he pushed back in. He didn't start off slow. He fucked Desmond deep and fast, making sure to hit his prostate so hard with every thrust that he slid up the Animus.

"Yes, yes, _SHAUN_!"

"DESMOND, _fuck_!"

A loud _thump_ sounded somewhere near the door. Shaun didn't even care. He was coming down from some utopian bliss, his thighs quivering in ecstasy, the front of his shirt covered in Desmond's wetness. He tried to hold back his final moan, but the feeling of the assassin convulsing around him was too much.

"_Yesss_…." He hissed out, collapsing on top of Desmond with his eyes closed.

The room was silent. Eerily silent. There was something wrong.

Shaun opened his eyes, looking at the door.

"Fuck!" he immediately jumped off of Desmond, trying in vain to cover himself. His thighs were sticking together, and he fumbled at the clothes on the ground, his face bright red with embarrassment.

Desmond didn't even know what to say. He couldn't move – he was tied to the Animus.

"Desmond," Lucy started, her face white with shock. She stopped at that, mouth open, not knowing quite what to say.

There were groceries all over the floor. Shaun's papers were scattered everywhere and the Animus was covered in semen.

Rebecca was in a wonderful place.

"H-hot…"

"I…I can explain." Desmond babbled quickly, "The-the power came back on, and, and Ezio started fucking Leo, and I got turned on, and when I came out, Shaun was turned on, a-and his voice, and he likes Italian, and…"

Lucy held up a hand, brow furrowed and eyes closed.

"I don't want to hear it," her voice sounded strained, like she was about to pass out, "I need to go lie down. Clean yourselves up, please. And next time? Not on the Animus. Just…just…I don't know, just not on the Animus."

She didn't even bother picking up the groceries.

Rebecca opened her mouth to say something, but was pulled out of the room by Lucy. Her last words were vaguely audible as she was dragged down the hall.

"That was great! Did you hear him begging? _Fuck_, hottest thing I've ever seen…"

Desmond looked up sharply as he felt something pulling at his wrists. It was Shaun, trying to carefully undo the belt without getting the Animus any stickier. He had somehow acquired pants, but they were sliding down his hips without a belt to hold them up, revealing dark, wet curls.

The Brit seemed distant, back to his old, grumpy self. Desmond had a moment of panic. Would this change anything? Would things be awkward now? Did he even have a chance?

"This bloody machine is going to be impossible to clean." Shaun sighed quite suddenly, giving him the same, irritated look as always, "Next time, we're doing it on my bed. I'd do it on yours, but it probably hasn't been made in weeks."

Desmond grinned slowly, looking up at the Brit. No, nothing would change at all. Well, perhaps Lucy was traumatized, and they'd probably have to check and see if Rebecca put any cameras in the bedrooms.

"And next time, I'm topping." Desmond grinned.

Shaun looked away, trying ineffectively to hide his small grin.

"We'll see about that," he said.

And, of course, there would be lots, lots more sex.

* * *

"_Fuck! I think I'm…Shaun, I can't take this, I'm so horny…Fuck!"_

"_I'm going to fuck you into this desk."_

"_, I need you so much!"_

That's what those things were supposed to say in English. I know a bit of Italian, and so I also know that some of these statements have been translated very, very wrong, but hey. All I used was an online translator! Just wait a year and I'll be good!

*Fidgets in embarrassment* Yeah, so…second lemon I've ever done…hope it was okay. I just wanted it to be a PWP (I've always wanted to write one), so…well, I hope it isn't horrible :P. I'll get better with practice!

Anyway, thanks to everyone for reading! If you have any ideas (not just lemon, I love slices of life!) that you might want me to write, send them this way! I'll see what I can do!

I love yous!


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